


Wonderstruck

by whatstheproblembaby



Series: Wonderstruck!verse [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairytale, Fluff, M/M, betrothals, commoner!Kurt, masquerades, prince!Blaine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2014-10-30
Packaged: 2018-02-23 04:47:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2534720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatstheproblembaby/pseuds/whatstheproblembaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt feels lucky to even be attending Prince Blaine's masquerade ball - getting to dance with him would be enough to fulfill one of his wildest dreams.</p><p>His actual night is even better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wonderstruck

Kurt froze just inside the entryway of the grand palace ballroom, awed at what he saw. The room was decked out with rich silk draperies of navy and scarlet – the royal family's colors – and accented here and there with a light, snowy silver that made the lights glow even brighter. The party guests, too, looked impossibly fine, with the women in airy chiffons and the men in gorgeous brocades. The most distinctive feature he noticed, though, were the masks.

It was an old royal tradition: on the heir's eighteenth birthday, a ball for the entire kingdom would be held, and all of the guests would be required to wear masks in order to attend. The heir would then mingle and dance with all of the guests (or at least as many as possible) in order to discover their true personalities without their appearances interfering. At the end of the night, the heir would ask one person to remove their mask and share the final dance. That person almost always ended up becoming the heir's spouse.

Kurt shivered when an image of him dancing with Prince Blaine entered into his mind. He knew the odds weren't good for him, since the richest, most social-climbing people skirted the rules some by making ornate, just-barely-there masks that attracted the most attention, but he could still dream. He deserved this one night of fantasy before he had to come back down to earth tomorrow and deal with yet another pointed remark from his father about accepting Adam's proposal.

“C'mon, Kurt!” Rachel's voice burst into his thoughts as a hand latched onto his elbow and dragged him farther into the room. “We're at the prince's birthday ball, what could possibly be distracting you from oohing and ahhing over the room with me?!”

“Adam,” Kurt sighed, and Rachel understood.

“He's already trying to convince you to marry him so that your father will have enough money to support him in his old age, don't let him take the memory of this night away from you, too!” she said forcefully.

“Fine, fine, you're right,” Kurt said. He shook off the last of his melancholy and smiled ecstatically at Rachel, who squealed in delight.

“Maybe Prince Blaine will dance with me!” Rachel said, bouncing slightly on her toes. The edges of her purple mask fluttered. “I've never looked better, thanks to you and your incredible sewing.”

Kurt had to admit she was right. She spun around excitedly, allowing him to take in her outfit one last time: full lavender skirts, a close fitting bodice with violet trim, and just enough lace around the neck and sleeves to satisfy her need for pizzazz without making her look ridiculous. It had taken him nearly two weeks to make, but it looked fantastic on her.

“Or maybe he'll dance with _me_ ,” he teased when Rachel's focus was back on him. “I know it's kind of farfetched, but I think I look pretty good tonight, too.” He gestured down to his own light blue shirt, pinstriped vest, and cream colored pants, also his own creations. His mask was blue with a small border of cream, very simple compared to some of the ornate monstrosities on the elites.

“You always look gorgeous, Kurt, it's not fair to the rest of us,” Rachel complained through a smile. “Only you could manage to look completely put together after spending the day in your father's forge.”

“It's a gift,” Kurt said, beaming back at her. “Now, do you want to keep blabbering away at me, or do you want to dance?” He took the hand Rachel held out to him and led them onto the dance floor, where they spent the first few songs alternating between hushed commentary about the décor and whispered gossip about the manners and outfits of the people around them.

Kurt was just about to murmur a particularly cutting remark about the sheer gaudiness of the mask on the lady next to them (hot pink and gold with feathers? Truly, money didn't buy taste) when another man in a deep burgundy mask and matching suit approached them and bowed politely.

“Pardon my interruption,” he said, and Kurt had to keep his knees from melting at the smoothness of his voice. “I was just hoping to cut in.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Rachel said, turning to the other man, who held out a hand.

“I was actually hoping to dance with your partner first, my lady,” he said apologetically. “Although I plan on dancing with both of you before the night's end.”

“That – that would be fine,” Kurt choked out, stunned that somebody who wasn't Rachel wanted to be his dance partner.

“Wonderful,” the man said, and just like that, Kurt was dancing with another man.

A man who knew exactly what he was doing, Kurt discovered as the song went on. His partner was able to lead him with just a press of his hand or a tilt of his head, making Kurt feel more like he was flying than dancing.

“So, um, what's your name?” Kurt asked after a moment, hoping he didn't sound too bumbling.

“You can call me Devon,” the other man – Devon – said with a smile. “I'm so sorry I didn't introduce myself before. I've felt a little out of sorts all night.”

Kurt mentally shook himself, breaking away from Devon's entrancing golden-hazel eyes. “That's alright,” he said, smiling back. “I know the feeling – I've been overwhelmed by the atmosphere ever since I got here. I'm Kurt, by the way.”

“It is kind of extravagant, isn't it?” Devon asked, looking around the room as though he was seeing it for the first time. “I've been taking in the people more than I have the decorations.”

“It's extravagant, but I think it's also fairly tasteful,” Kurt said, knowing he was treading on thin ice. Anyone in this room could be powerful enough to blacklist his father's business if he said something they deemed too forward about the royals or their lifestyle. “The hangings are expensive, yes, but they're also reusable and well taken care of. The royals could have chosen to get specially embroidered decorations for Prince Blaine's birthday, but they didn't. I think that shows their true character.”

“That's a very astute remark,” Devon said, looking a bit shocked. “Most of the other guests I've danced with have all said that the drapes should match the prince's outfit, since it's his ball.”

“But wouldn't that spoil the surprise?” Kurt asked. “I thought another one of the benefits of a masquerade was that it kept the social climbers from immediately identifying the prince.”

“My thoughts precisely,” Devon said. “The genuine nature of the conversations are supposed to be his benchmark for finding true love, after all.”

“Do you really think the prince will be able to find true love tonight?” Kurt asked, truly curious. “I know I'd be dismayed by the sheer amount of guests present.”

“I think that fate will guide him to the right person,” Devon said with a glint in his eyes that Kurt couldn't quite place. Hope, maybe? “But enough about the prince. Tell me about you.” The music changed at this, and Devon pulled Kurt a little closer to match the new tempo.

“Um, I'm eighteen years old, and I live in the city,” Kurt said, not knowing where to start. “When I have the time, I like listening to the troubadours sing their ballads, especially the ones about star-crossed lovers. They're sad, but they're-”

“-captivating,” Devon said, in time with Kurt. “I feel the same way.”

They continued their conversation for three more dances, adjusting their position or speed as necessary. Each time Devon pulled him in for a slower song, Kurt felt his heart pound frantically in his chest. Something about the other man just felt familiar to Kurt, especially as they learned that they had remarkably similar interests and opinions. Kurt was almost hoping that time would stop and they could simply dance together forever.

Unfortunately, Kurt didn't get his wish. After their fourth dance, Devon stepped back and released Kurt's hand while giving him a dejected look.

“I'm so sorry, but I did promise your original partner a dance as well,” he said. “I wouldn't want to deprive the other guests of your scintillating personality, either.”

“Do you think we could have one last dance before the night ends?” Kurt asked, hoping he didn't sound desperate or pushy. He was unwilling to let Devon go without at least learning if they could meet again outside of the ball someday.

“I wouldn't rule out that possibility,” Devon said, a playful gleam in his eyes. He disappeared into the crowd before Kurt could say anything else.

Kurt spent the rest of the evening alternating between dancing with Rachel, dancing with an assortment of uninteresting strangers, and enjoying the food at the banquet table off to the side. He was half-considering trying to figure out a way to smuggle home some of the choicer selections to his father when suddenly a herald called for silence.

All attention shifted to the dais at the front of the room, where King William had unmasked himself and was standing next to his wife.

“Good people of Dalton,” he began. “Queen Annalise and I thank you all for attending our son Blaine's traditional eighteenth birthday ball and allowing him to mingle with you in order to discover his hopeful future spouse. I have high hopes for him – after all, I found my Anna at my own masquerade.” He looked at the queen lovingly for a moment before continuing. “Blaine, will you please join us up here and inform us of your choice?”

The crowd parted as a figure made its way to the front and climbed the steps up to the dais. When the prince was fully visible, Kurt had to stifle a gasp.

He would recognize that burgundy outfit anywhere.

The prince removed his mask and stepped forward to speak. “Hello, everyone. I'm Prince Blaine, though I used my middle name, Devon, to introduce myself to you all tonight. Thank you for being so lovely to me. I enjoyed many of the conversations I had with you. One particular person does stand out, though.” His gaze scanned through the crowd while Kurt tried not to get his hopes up and failed miserably. “Kurt? Are you still here?”

Murmurs erupted through the crowd as Kurt swallowed hard, feeling his mouth instantly go dry. “Here!” he said, far too quietly. He repeated himself, shouting “I'm here!”

“There you are,” Blaine said, locking eyes with Kurt. “Would you do me the honor of sharing the last dance with me?”

Kurt nodded, dumbstruck, as Blaine began walking toward him. Fortunately, he remembered to put down the tiny cake he was holding before Blaine could take his hands again.

“I told you we could probably share one last dance,” Blaine teased as they made their way to the center of the dance floor.

“You really know how to keep a promise,” Kurt said breathlessly. The music swelled, and Kurt allowed himself to be pulled closer than ever before to Blaine's chest, feeling Blaine's nose tickle the side of his neck.

“I couldn't just let my potential true love slip through my fingers, could I?” Blaine asked, smiling gently. “Not after I found him in all these people.”

“I dreamed about dancing with Prince Blaine _and_ seeing Devon again after tonight, but I never even imagined that they could be the same person,” Kurt said, automatically returning Blaine's smile. “I'm usually not that fortunate.”

“Believe me, I would have found you again after the ball if you had left before now,” Blaine said, pressing Kurt even closer to him. “I would have scoured the city, asking if anyone knew where a blue-eyed boy named Kurt lives, hoping to see what you were like without the mask.”

“Oh, the mask!” Kurt said, taking his hands from Blaine's shoulders to undo the ribbon holding his mask up. “I completely forgot.” He let his mask drop to the ground when he had unfastened it, looping his arms back around Blaine's shoulders as the other man gaped at him.

“How are you not betrothed?” Blaine asked, stunned. “If I had been able to see what you looked like as we were talking, I wouldn't have been able to leave you for other partners.”

“A man has come to me and my father asking about a marriage, but I've been trying to turn him down,” Kurt said, blushing. “He's nice, but I don't feel any sort of connection with him – not like I do with you.”

“Telling this man that you're the heir's intended should be a sufficient excuse to reject him,” Blaine said seriously, before getting a look of horror on his face. “I mean – if you're willing, of course, I would never _force_ you to-”

“I'm willing, Blaine,” Kurt said, his blush intensifying as he called his prince by his first name. He assumed that if they were to be married, the lack of formality would be acceptable. “I'm incredibly willing.”

“You are?” Blaine asked. The hopeful, incredulous look on his face was the most precious thing Kurt had ever seen.

“I am,” Kurt confirmed, a joyous smile spreading across his face.

“Good,” Blaine said, stopping their movements as the song ended. “Because I've been looking for you forever.”

The kiss they shared after that was more perfect than any fantasy Kurt could have ever imagined.


End file.
